


Family Matters

by BeStillMySlashyHeart



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Communication, Family, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeStillMySlashyHeart/pseuds/BeStillMySlashyHeart
Summary: Isobel is telepathic. Most of the time she ignores it. She used to pick up on other's people's emotions but she's long since learned to tune that out. Until one night she can't. Someone, somewhere is in such a state that it's spilling over and she's left to deal with the brunt of it.Or, Michael keeps things close to the vest until he can't. The night after Alex leaves him at the drive-in, everything he's feeling bubbles up inside until it spills over onto Isobel. Suddenly he's left with no other choice but to open up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I was done for now...like yesterday? Yeah, that was clearly a lie.

Michael shoved himself away from the counter and placed his empty beer bottle down. “I’m out.”

Isobel looked at him in shock as Max just waved him off wearily. “Keep your phone on you this time.” Max said. Michael nodded and headed for the front door.

Isobel looked between them in shock before hurrying after Michael.

“Michael!” She called as she left the house. He’d already gotten to his truck but stopped and turned at her voice. “Where are you going?”

He cocked his head. “Home. I’m tired.” He turned away but she grabbed his arm. 

“Max needs our help.” She insisted. “You can’t just leave him right now.”

Michael turned to face her fully so she let go. “What exactly do you think we can do for him right now? He revived someone. From the dead. That’s so far beyond what we thought he was capable of it’s not even funny.” He gestured towards Max and the dark town. “And now there are consequences to playing God.”

“Exactly!” Isobel exclaimed. “None of us know what the hell is going on but we need to figure it out. And you’re the genius of the group so we need your help.” She crossed her arms and stared at him, imploring him to understand.

He just shrugged. “Not right now you don’t. Right now, I’m going to go home and sleep. And I’m sure a good night’s rest couldn’t hurt Max either. We can regroup in the morning or whatever.” He took a step and shrugged with his arms spread wide. “Who knows? Maybe by then the problem will be gone.” 

Michael turned on his heel and got in his truck. Isobel took a step forward to try and continue the conversation but he pulled away before she could reach him. She was left coughing in the dirt trail he left behind. Waving a hand in front of her face to dispel the cloud, she stared at his retreating tail lights for a long minute. She followed them as he took the turn towards town, drawing her attention to the still dark city. She sighed and hugged herself a little against the night chill before going back into the house. 

“Max?” She called as she entered. There was no answer. She walked back into the kitchen and paused. Max was hunched over the kitchen counter. She was almost worried for a second before he let out a huge snore and she smiled. The sick and the dead didn’t snore. 

She walked over and shook his shoulder. Michael may have had a point about Max needing to sleep but the counter was not the place for it. He startled at her touch, tensing all over and sitting up straight. Well, as straight as he could at the moment.

“Shh, it’s just me.” Isobel assured him. “It’s just me.”

She rubbed his shoulder and he relaxed under her touch. He started to sink back down but she tightened her grip. “No, not here. Come on, let’s get you into bed.” She tugged him gently, encouraging him to stand up on his own. If he was too tired to get to his room she might have to leave him here; there was no way she could carry him by herself.

He got mostly to his feet before starting to sag so Isobel put her shoulder under his and slung an arm over her back, holding him up with a hand on his chest. Together, they got him into his room. When they were close enough, Isobel tried to guide him onto the bed but ended up just sort of dropping him and having to pull his feet up second. She took off his shoes then grabbed a bottle of nail polish remover from the bathroom and set it on the bed side table. Before she left, she took an extra blanket from the closet and flung it over him.

She was almost out of the room when the world tilted. She lost her balance and fell into the doorframe, unable to catch herself. Max stirred at the thump. “Is…?” he mumbled, half asleep. 

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. It was overwhelming. But most disconcerting was the knowledge that what was overwhelming her wasn’t hers. She was tapping into someone else and whatever they were feeling was overflowing into her - hurt and sorrow and longing and anger and regret. There was so much she couldn’t handle it. She pressed her hands to her head and tried to take deep breaths. It didn’t help. Unfortunately, there was little else she could do so she kept at it.

It felt like she was under water. Every time it eased enough that she thought she could take a breath, it pulled her down under again. She couldn’t get a break until suddenly there was nothing. She sucked in a deep breath even though she knew she didn’t need it and took in her surroundings. 

It was day. That was the first thing she noticed. The second thing she noticed was she appeared to be in the hallway at Max’s house. Third, she realized she was wrapped up in someone’s arms. Looking up, she spotted Max. He was sitting on the floor with his back pressed into the doorframe to his bedroom, holding her in his arms while he slept.

Isobel carefully extricated herself and sat up, pressing a hand to her head as if there was a mark or something; evidence as to what happened to her. She’d felt other people’s thoughts and emotions before but never anything like that. 

Beside her, Max started to stir. When he saw she was awake, he leaned over and laid a hand gently on her arm. “Are you okay?”

She just looked at him. “What happened?”

He tilted his head. “You don’t remember?”

She shook her head. Then nodded. “I remember coming over here after you caused a town-wide blackout. I remember getting you to bed and then I was leaving. But-”

“But?”

“I don’t know. It was like overflow but way more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head to clear it. “And then I woke up and it’s morning. Oh shit, Noah.” She scurried to her feet. “I need to get home.”

Max rose with her and stopped her. “Isobel, you were screaming. And crying and shaking. I thought you were having a fit of some kind.”

She froze. Ildly, she reached a hand up to her face and sure enough, she felt the remnants of dried tears. She looked back at Max. “I don’t remember that.” She said slowly.

“Wait. What about you? You were completely out of it last night.” She asked Max. He shook his head. “I’m fine. I just needed to sleep.” She gave him a look and he ducked his head. “Alright, I’m not completely fine but I’m better. I don’t feel like I’m dead on my feet anymore.” 

She searched his eyes to see if he was lying to her but he seemed genuine. She could’ve searched his mind but she’d long ago promised both of her brothers that she wouldn’t intrude on their thoughts. She nodded. “Okay. Good. I’m glad.” She turned away from him and went to find her things. 

As she gathered her purse and jacket, she called to where Max remained in the bedroom, “I told MIchael to meet up with us later! We need to figure out what exactly is going on with you.” He walked into view, giving her a look of his own. She scoffed. “Yes, amazingly enough you two are going to have to work together!” She told him, adding sarcastically, “Won’t that be fun?”

He gave her a humorless smile and she left.  
____

Late in the afternoon, after Isobel smoothed things over with Noah and Max got off work and Michael did whatever he did during the day, the three met back up at Max’s house. Isobel slumped into the couch almost as soon as she got in the door. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael asked. She could only groan in response. 

“She had some sort of episode last night.” She heard Max explain. “I thought she was over it though.”

“So did I,” Isobel told them. She picked her head up from where she had stuffed it under a pillow. “If this is a headache then I understand why humans complain about them so much.” She saw the boys exchange amused glances. “Oh I’m so glad you’re enjoying this.” She plopped back down onto the couch and heard one of them chuckle though she couldn’t say which.

“Ok.” Michael said, thankfully drawing attention away from her, “what’s going on with you, big guy?” 

Isobel could almost feel Max’s glare as he answered, “I already told you, I don’t know.”

Isobel tuned them out shortly thereafter. She was too exhausted to participate in this discussion. Her only real contribution was going to be keeping them from killing each other anyway and they seemed to both be alive if the shouting was any indication. 

The silence startled her awake. She came too as the sun was setting and noticed that the shouting had finally stopped. Sitting upright, she looked around and saw both Max and Michael standing outside with beers in their hands. She stood up and stretched before going in search of some nail polish remover. The sleep had done her wonders but she was still feeling relatively low. Grabbing the bottle, she wandered outside to join her brothers. They turned at the sound of the door opening. 

“Hey,” Max greeted her. 

“Feeling any better?” Asked Michael. 

She nodded. “How long was I out?” 

Michael shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “A couple of hours,” Max answered. “It’s just after six.” 

“Did you guys figure out what’s going on with you, Max?” They both shook their heads. 

“We just don’t know enough about ourselves to be able to pinpoint what’s making him act so strange.” Michael explained.

She took a swig from her bottle. Michael drained his and turned to leave. “You getting another?” Isobel asked but Michael shook his head. 

“Naw, I’m heading out. I was just waiting until you woke up to make sure you were alright.”

Isobel smiled. He waved goodbye to Max with the bottle and left the twins on their own. 

“Are you really okay?” Max asked her.

“Are you?” Isobel retorted, not unkindly. 

They stood there in silence watching the sunset. When the last rays started to fade, Max offered to make her dinner and she readily accepted. Noah was working late tonight so she didn’t need to rush home. They two spent the next several hours filled with good food and obscure conversation. Isobel asked Max to explain his love for Russian literature, yet again. Max managed to stir up and old argument that had last since their high school days. All in all, it was a pleasant evening that made her forget the previous night.

That is, until she was harshly reminded of it by another episode. She was taking her empty wine glass back into the kitchen when it hit. She heard Max jump up behind her at the sound of shattering glass when the wine glass slipped from her grip but she couldn’t focus on that. She hunched over herself and felt tears immediately well up in her eyes. It was the same as last night, only worse. While last night she felt almost echoes of the anger and sorrow and hurt, enough that she recognized it as originating from someone else, tonight it was almost as if it were her own pain. It was more visceral, more real. And it hurt a hell of a lot more. She was so lost in the feeling that she didn’t notice Max guiding her to the couch or laying down. She didn’t notice when the tears fell faster. All she could focus on was the pain. But it wasn’t a physical pain. No, it was worse. 

_“You’re still the guy just looking for any excuse to walk away, huh?”  
“Maybe. But you’re still so good at giving them to me.”_

She started bawling. She’d never had her heart broken but now she knew what it felt like. And somehow she knew that it wasn’t her heart that was breaking. It was Michael’s. All of what she was feeling was Michael’s.

Hours later, Isobel woke with the sun. At some point she had gotten a pillow and a blanket and there was a full bottle of nail polish remover on the table. Max was on the floor next to the couch and he stirred when she reached for the bottle. He quickly sat up and handed it to her. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. She could hear the worry in his voice. 

She shrugged as she downed half of the bottle. Taking a breath, she replied, “Better. Not feeling the after effects so much this time.”

He didn’t say anything as she finished off the bottle. “It was worse this time.” He told her quietly.

She slowly screwed the lid back on. “Yeah, I know. It was like there was no separation between me and the overflow. It was like it was mine. Really mine.”

He looked at her. She had always been able to tell the difference between her own emotions and those of others, even when they were younger and she had less control over it. She ignored the look he gave her and threw off the blanket. “I’ve gotta go.” She said as she stood up. 

Max shot out a hand when she wobbled but she brushed him off. He kept asking questions but she ignored him as she gathered her stuff and left.

____

Isobel pulled up close to the Airstream. It was still early and the junkyard wasn’t open yet but she was up which meant Michael was up too. Too early to go home in case she woke up Noah, she figured she’d pay Michael a visit first thing. Clutching the bottle of nail polish remover, she got out and locked the car. Stalking over to the Airstream, she flung open the door without bothering to knock. Michael paused briefly in the middle of getting dressed at her sudden entrance but continued when he saw that it was her. If she wasn’t mistaken, there’d been a flash of disappointment on his face when he saw her. 

She looked around for a good place to sit before deciding to stay standing. Michael sat on the bed, pulling on his shoes. He looked up at her. “Did you need something?”

“It happened again last night.” She told him.

He paused his actions. “Are you okay?” He asked, worriedly.

She shrugged. “I think I figured out what it is.” He slipped his other shoe on and stood up. 

“That’s good. Can you fix whatever it is?” He asked.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you’ll let me.”

He stared at her quizzically. “Me? Why would I have to let you?”

She took a deep breath. “Because you’re the problem.”

“Excuse me?!” Michael shot back. “ _I’m_ your problem?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’re causing the overflow.” He shook his head but she pressed on. “I mean think about it. No human has ever affected me like that. What I’ve felt the last two nights is overwhelmingly intense. And the human psyche is different, okay? It’s not like ours. They’re similar, yes, but I know the difference. The first night I just didn’t notice because I was drowning in it but last night I paid more attention. And it is definitely coming from you or Max.” She held up a hand. “Now Max has his issues. That’s very fucking obvious right now. But he’s letting it out. It’s not all bottled up inside.” Isobel paused. Michael’s face was getting stormy but she didn’t have the time to handle this carefully. Whatever he was keeping locked up in that head of his was hurting her. “You, on the other hand, are practically the undisputed king of not sharing.” 

That earned her a glare. She ignored it. “And I don’t know what’s going on with you or why this all boiled over at once but it did and it’s going to keep spilling over. Unless you let it out.”

“You’re standing right next to me and you’re fine! Why would you think this is me?” Michael asked.

“It only happens at night.” Isobel explained. “You’ve got control over your emotions while you’re awake but at night that control slips, okay?”

“So what? You want me to talk? Share my feelings?” Michael asked sarcastically.

“Yes!” She yelled. “Is that really so fucking hard?” 

He didn’t look at her. 

“Look, last night was worse, okay?” That got his attention. “And if it continues, I won’t be able to handle it for long. I’m exhausted because I can’t sleep. I have downed two of these already,” she shook the bottle still clutched in her hand, “and I still feel like crap. Whatever is going on with you, you need to deal with it. Or talk about it. _Something_.”

Michael clenched his jaw.

She sighed and let her eyes close. “Please Michael. I know you hate it but I need you to talk to me. For both of our sakes.”

He shook his head. “Michael-”

“I can’t, Isobel. I can’t talk about this with you.”

She threw up her hands. “Well then deal with it! Or talk to someone else.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

She eyed him. “Okay?”

He reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry you’re suffering because of my shit, okay? I’ll figure something out.”

She squeezed him tight. “Before tonight? Because I would really like to sleep.” She felt him huff a laugh into her hair and then nod against her shoulder. 

“I promise.”  
____

Max rubbed a hand across his brow. It had been a long day and it was only just after lunch. The whole department was still trying to deal with the blackout. They’d gotten the generator up and running so they had lights and air conditioning but the computers were still offline. And with the townspeople taking advantage of the blackout to act like complete and utter idiots, they were having to respond to calls all over the city at all hours of the day. He was swamped. Combined with the lack of sleep the past few nights while watching over Isobel, he could feel himself losing control again. The darkness was just under the surface and it was begging to be let out. He’d almost beaten the last suspect they’d brought in. It was just a kid who had thought it would be funny to steal some candy from the movie theater but Max had wanted to _hurt_ him. And he didn’t know why.

That was his breaking point. After that, he’d gone to Sheriff Valenti and requested that he not be sent out in the field. Apparently, he hadn’t been keeping as good a lid on his behaviour as he’d thought because she readily agreed. 

He was processing his upteenth stack of reports when the front door to the station opened and he felt the air change. He picked his head up and looked over to see Michael standing by the front desk looking at him. Max furrowed his brow. “Are you lost?” He asked, curious. Ordinarily, he’d take this opportunity to be a dick and mention how this was the first time Michael had come in without handcuffs on but something on Michael’s face stopped him. Something was wrong. The thought made him pause for a moment. Something was wrong _with Michael_ and he’d come to Max. 

Max shot out of his chair and met Michael in the lobby, his own weariness temporarily forgotten. “What’s wrong?” He asked. Michael couldn’t meet his eyes. “Michael?” 

Michael ran a hand over his face and looked around him. Max followed his gaze, trying to see what his brother saw: some of his fellow deputies, several of whom were giving Michael dirty looks (justifiably so in Max’s opinion), a few suspects sitting against the far wall, waiting for processing, the smell of bad coffee in the air. He turned back to Michael and raised an eyebrow at the continued silence. Finally Michael sighed, “I need to talk to you.”

Max didn’t answer. If anything, he raised his eyebrow even higher. Michael bobbed his head a little in acknowledgement of his unusual comment, “Privately?” Max looked closer at his face. If he didn’t know any better he’d say Michael looked anxious.

He nodded and turned around, heading for the evidence room. All of the evidence had to be logged in the system before it could be filed so, with the computers still out of commission, it was the one room in the station guaranteed to be empty. He led Michael inside then shut and locked the door behind him. Michael paced in the aisle while Max settled himself against the door. 

Neither man spoke.

After a while, Michael stopped pacing and pulled out one of the evidence boxes to sit down on in the aisle. Max thought about scolding him but stopped. He just watched as Michael ran a hand through his curls before squeezing some in a fist. Still, he didn’t speak and Max didn’t move. 

With a heavy sigh, Michael eventually spoke up. He kept his head down as if he needed to forget that he was talking to Max. “I’m the one overflowing into Isobel.” He admitted. Max had already figured as much since the options were limited and he knew it wasn’t him but he kept his mouth shut and let Michael speak. “She says it’s because I bottle things up too much. That when I sleep I let it just overflow.” He took a deep breath. “She also says that I need to share more or else it’s going to get worse for her.” 

Max shifted his weight. He hadn’t thought it could get worse. The last two nights, watching Isobel lose her mind, had been terrifying. He didn’t want to think about what ‘worse’ could mean. “Okay? And? Did you talk to her?” He asked. Max knew Michael. Better than either one of them wanted to admit. He may act like an asshole and say that they weren’t family but he would do anything to protect Isobel. 

So he was stunned when Michael shook his head. 

He pushed off from the door, the darkness and the rage bubbling up inside of him, happy to finally have an outlet. “I can’t,” Michael confessed.

“What the hell do you mean, you can’t?” Max yelled. “At the rate she’s going, if it gets any worse it’ll kill her!”

“I know!” Michael shouted back as he stood up. “It’s why I’m here.” He added in a softer tone. 

Max jerked backwards in surprise. “What?” 

If Michael was going to talk about whatever his issues were, he’d do it with Isobel. Not him. 

Except. 

He was here. At the station. Talking to Max. Max quirked his head in disbelief. _Huh_.

Michael closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Look. I’m gonna talk about what’s bothering me and you’re going to listen and it’s going to help Isobel. Or else I don’t know what to do.” He stated. 

Max was still reeling from the revelation that Michael was choosing to come to him for help. “Why not talk to Isobel? Wouldn’t that make more sense?” He asked.

Michael shook his head. “She said I had to stop bottling everything up. That I needed to vent or whatever.” He shrugged. “But if I tell her then she’s going to push and I can’t-I can’t have that, okay? I can’t have someone pushing for more than I can give right now.”

Michael looked at him, imploring him to understand. And the crazy thing was, Max did. So he nodded and let Michael talk.

Michael sat back down on the box. “Man, I wish I’d thought to bring alcohol with me. Would make this conversation a lot easier.”

Max shrugged. There was a bottle of whiskey in his desk but he figured if he left to go get it, Michael would lose his nerve and leave. 

“Okay.” Michael started. He rubbed his hands along his thighs. “The short version of it is I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back.”

...okay. That was not what Max was expecting to hear. In all of their lives, he’d never heard Michael express feelings for someone. Oh it was clear he cared about Isobel and even Max himself at times but he never said it. It was always in his actions. 

“Or at least, doesn’t seem to care enough to love me back. Not really.” Michael continued. And now Max was confused. He moved closer and leant against the shelving unit closest to where Michael was sitting. “What do you mean?” He asked.

Michael quirked his head and averted his eyes. “Apparently I am great for sex but the idea of anything more, of even being seen together in public is revolting.” Max winced. He could practically feel the self-loathing dripping from Michael’s voice. He wanted to reach out and offer comfort but he knew it wouldn’t be accepted. 

“Michael-” he started.

“And the worst part is that it goes back and forth.” It was as if now that he’d started, he had to keep going. Max wondered how long Michael had been holding on to this. “Some days it’s like everything is great. The sex is phenomenal, though honestly I like the mornings just as much if not more, when I actually get them.” He shook his head. Max knew then that Michael was in deep. “But then it’s all ‘ _Fuck off, Guerin!_ ’, ‘ _I can’t be seen with a criminal, Guerin!_ ’ and then the next day it’s back to having sex. And repeat.” Max could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. And frankly, it made him angry. Michael had built a wall around himself a long time ago. It’s what got him through foster care. But it made it hard to get close to him. The idea that Michael had let someone in only to be toyed with… He couldn’t stand it.

He started pacing. Michael watched him, not saying anything more for now. Max ran a hand through his hair and turned to face Michael. “I-” he started.

Michael shook his head. “No, don’t say anything. That’s why I’m telling you, remember?” Max bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood but he just nodded his head.

Michael stood up and moved the evidence box back where he’d gotten it from. He swiped some dust off his hands then stared at them for a moment. “I think the worst part is that I understand why he does it.” Max jerked his head in surprise. That was not the pronoun he was expecting. “I know he loves me too but he thinks he shouldn’t or he can’t. He’s got his reasons, okay? He’s not a bad guy.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I wish I could hate him. Just a little bit. But I can’t.” He shrugged. 

Max felt some of his anger leave him. “You love him.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah. I really do.”

Max didn’t reply. He felt like he’d learned more about Michael in the last 10 minutes than he had in the last 10 years. It was nice, even if the topic wasn’t. 

Michael let out another heavy sigh and turned to him, his face set. “Alright. Let’s hope that’s enough.” And Max was abruptly reminded of why exactly it was that Michael had decided to share this with him.

He stepped back, putting more space between them, and nodded. “Hopefully Isobel will be able to sleep tonight.”

The two stood in awkward silence for a minute. Michael clapped his hands together, “Alright, good talk. Keep it to yourself.” With that, he brushed past Max and left. 

Max stayed where he was. Maybe he and Michael had more in common than he thought they did. Maybe, just maybe, if they actually communicated like grown ups they could get back to being friends one day. He snorted. At this rate, they’d get there when one of them died of old age.

He headed back to his desk and pulled out his phone to call Isobel. He told her that Michael had come and talked to him and that both of them were hopeful it would be enough for her to sleep at night. She was as shocked as he was that Michael had come to him but he thought she also sounded pleased. Either way, she was happy to hear that Michael had done what he’d promised. He made her promise to call the next day if it hadn’t worked and then he hung up and got back to work.  
__

A couple of weeks later, things were different between him and Michael. He wouldn’t say they were good, per se, because frankly things hadn’t been good between them in about 10 years. But they were better. Max finally felt like he understood Michael, just a little bit.

Isobel was pleased as hell to see them not fighting and she hadn’t had another episode since their talk. Michael was a little surprised that it had only taken that one conversation to get the overflow to stop but he wasn’t going to complain. Anything that kept Isobel on her feet was a good thing to him. Michael had been skittish around him the first time they saw each other afterwards but he quickly went back to normal when he realized that Max really wasn’t going to say anything. He didn’t even know what he would say if he’d wanted to. 

Max turned left at the next intersection and squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun, slapping down the visor a moment later. It was too early for this but Isobel had glared him into it. While Michael was controlling it better now, she was worried that he’d lose control again so she’d 'encouraged' Max to reach out. So here he was, pulling into the junkyard first thing in the morning with coffee and donuts as part of some convoluted peace offering Isobel had cooked up. 

As he drove around to where Michael kept the Airstream, he passed Alex Manes driving out. He thought it odd but didn’t dwell on it. Michael had been living at the Foster Ranch until the Air Force bought it out; maybe there was an issue with that. Or at least, that’s what he tried to convince himself until he saw Michael. 

His brother was sitting on the ledge of the doorway into the trailer in only his boxers, head hung low and a beer bottle in his hand. And the pieces tumbled together for him. _Alex Manes_ , Max thought, _never would’ve guessed that_. 

He parked and got out bearing his gifts. Michael looked up at him and scowled. “What are you doing here?” He asked. His voice was soft, weary. Max held up the paper bag and coffee tray without a word. 

Michael eyed the offerings before getting up and heading back into the trailer. Max dragged the two lawn chairs out into the open and parked himself in one of them, setting the donut bag between them. He pulled out one coffee cup and took a sip, reaching out the other for Michael to take as he exited the trailer, this time fully clothed. Michael took it and sat in the other chair. 

Neither said a word for several minutes, enjoying the silent company.

Max glanced at his brother and debated his next move. Eventually, he thought _fuck it_ and said, “Alex Manes, huh? Wouldn’t have pegged you for falling for a military man.” He teased gently. 

Michael stiffened but took another sip of his coffee. “Wasn’t a military man when I fell for him.” He confessed quietly.

Oh. _Oh_.


	2. Chapter 2

Max eyed the bar. Alex Manes was sitting on a stool, fiddling with his beer bottle while he scrolled through his phone. He’d been talking with Maria and Liz for most of the night but they’d been dragged off by Cam a few minutes ago for something that Cam assured him he didn’t need to worry about. 

He knew he shouldn’t do it. The whole reason Michael had even confided in him in the first place was because he wouldn’t do it. And yet.

Max drummed his fingers on the table top while he waited for Cam to come back. If she and the other girls returned, neither he nor Alex would be alone and he wouldn’t be tempted to go talk to him. Because right now - well, he was awfully tempted.

He couldn’t say he knew Alex very well. They’d been tangential friends in high school at best; they had the same friend group and hung out together sometimes, but never really spent any significant time together. And he certainly hadn’t had any occasion to meet up with him since he’d returned from his tours in Iraq. All he knew about the situation was what little Michael had told him or let slip. To be frank, it wasn’t very flattering of Alex. Michael might insist that Alex wasn’t a bad guy, that he had his reasons, but in Max’s book, well. If Alex had any idea of what he was doing to Michael and he kept doing it? He wasn’t a good guy. 

The ladies still hadn’t returned.

He eyed Alex again. 

His fingers tapped the table harder. Faster.

He eyed the doorway Cam had led the others through. Still nothing. 

_Fuck it_.

He shoved away from the table and wandered over to the bar.

“This seat taken?” He asked Alex as he pulled out the stool next to him and sat down. Alex looked taken aback but didn’t object.

“Can I help you?” Alex asked.

Max shook his head. “No. I need to say something and you don’t need to respond. Just listen.”

Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word. He took a sip of his beer, leaned back, and nodded at Max to continue.

Max took a deep breath and inwardly hoped that he wasn’t fucking over his relationship with Michael irreparably. 

“First off, he didn’t tell me. Well he told me the bare bones but he didn’t tell me it was you.” Alex straightened up and his gaze hardened, a hard shell settling over his features. Max held up a hand to stall anything he might say. “I figured out it was you all on my own so you can’t get mad at him for that. Anyway, the reason I’m over here is I need- I need you to know what you’re doing to him.” That cracked the shell. Max could see some concern in Alex’s eyes. _Good_. “He loves you. So much. More than I thought he was capable of, to be honest.” The shell cracked some more and Alex looked away. “And this back and forth thing you’re doing with him? It is fucking with his head and his heart, okay? He insists that you’re not the bad guy but from where I’m sitting - and I’ll admit I don’t know the whole story - but from where I’m sitting, you keep getting his hopes up only to crush them again. Crush _him_ again. And I don’t know how much longer he can take it.” He heard Liz’s laughter and saw a flash of Cam’s blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. He ducked his head to catch Alex’s eyes and make sure he had his full attention. “If you love him, make a decision. Be with him or don’t but make up your mind and stick to it. If you don’t, if you keep stringing him along, then I’ll know he was wrong. You are the bad guy.” He waited a moment to make sure his words had sunk in then he tapped the bar and stood up to greet Cam as she returned. 

She gave him a quizzical look when she saw him sitting with Alex but he shook his head and she let it go. 

The rest of the night he focused on enjoying his night out with Cam and put his conversation with Alex out of his mind. 

The next couple of days were busy dealing with actual human problems for a change. It was refreshing to forget about his alienness after recent weeks and he dove into the work. He was so busy that he barely even spoke to Isobel, let alone Michael, and had completely forgotten his talk with Alex until he came home from work one day to see Michael’s truck in front of his house. 

Max parked his car and got out slowly. He stalled in front of his door for a long minute, fiddling with his keys, before deciding he needed to suck it up. There was a very strong chance that he was about to lose any semblance of a relationship with Michael forever. Michael had come to him in confidence specifically because Max wouldn’t push or pry or give a shit, honestly. And he’d gone out and done exactly what Michael had hoped he wouldn’t. He’d gotten involved in Michael’s personal business.

He sucked in a breath and entered the house. It was surprisingly quiet - though honestly he wasn’t sure he had truly expected anything different. Screaming and shouting had never been Michael’s style. If he was going to fight with someone, it would be with his fists not his words.

Max padded through his hallways slowly until he reached the great room. Michael’s form was silhouetted in the setting sun coming through the window. He was looking out at the town ahead, but cocked his head to the side when he heard Max walk in. Max dropped his keys on the kitchen table and stood there for a minute. 

When Michael didn’t say anything, he went over to the fridge. Alcohol couldn’t possibly hurt at this point. “You want a beer?” He tossed over his shoulder.

“Sure,” he heard Michael reply. 

Grabbing two and popping the tops off he walked back into the main room and joined Michael at the window, handing him his beer. 

They stood in silence watching the sun fade into the horizon. 

“You talked to Alex.” It wasn’t a question. Max glanced at him in surprise. He didn’t sound angry. Just...tired.

“I did.” Max admitted slowly. He didn’t need to, seeing as Michael obviously already knew, but he didn’t really have anything else to say. 

Michael didn’t say anything for a long time. Long enough that darkness was starting to truly fall. Next to him, Michael finished off his beer and turned away. Max followed him with his eyes as he walked into the kitchen to throw the bottle away then made for the front door.

“Michael?” he called. This whole night confused him.

Michael didn’t turn around but Max could see his shoulders sag a bit. “Apparently he has things to work on and it’s best for both of us if we don’t see each other until he figures everything out.” He answered Max’s unspoken question. Max clenched his jaw. That wasn’t the outcome he had been hoping for. But he supposed that at least this way, Michael had an answer. 

And, he realized, so did he. He had told Alex to make a choice if he loved Michael. And he’d obviously made one, so. He hummed silently to himself.

“Max?” he heard Michael say quietly. He turned back to where Michael hadn’t moved. “Thanks. For-” he stopped. Max watched him rub a hand across his forehead. “I wouldn’t have been able to-. Not even if it killed me. So thanks for-”

Max understood what Michael couldn’t say. Michael loved Alex too much to be able to say no to him when he came around, even though it killed him every time Alex left afterwards. He’d needed Max to step in and tell Alex for him. 

“Anytime.” He answered Michael. 

Michael paused for a moment longer, long enough that Max thought he was going to say something else, before he left without another word. 

Max turned back to the window and lifted the bottle to his lips. Maybe his and Michael’s relationship wasn’t irreparable after all.


	3. Chapter 3

“Evans!”

 

Max whirled around at his name. Alex crossed the street and stopped next to his car. He glanced at the car and took a half step back. Max eyed him before turning to look at the car to see what spooked him. In the passenger seat Cam shrugged at him. 

 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Alex asked him, indicating a few steps away with his head. Max nodded and followed him a short distance behind the car. 

 

“Something wrong?” He asked when he judged them to be far enough away from Cam.

 

“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Alex replied. Max furrowed his brow and Alex glanced around before continuing. “I haven’t seen Guerin around for a while. He’s usually a fixture at the Pony but Maria said he hasn’t been in in a while and I just-”

 

Max rubbed his forehead and had a minor internal freakout. He’d been so wrapped up in Liz and the whole Rosa thing lately that he’d forgotten about Michael and his own relationship issues. He winced to think of some of the things he’d said recently, words mostly spat in anger but cruel nonetheless. 

 

“Evans?” Alex asked.

 

“Yeah, uh,” he started. “Isobel’s going through some stuff with her husband and he’s been helping her out a lot. He’s fine, though.”

 

Alex nodded slowly. Max got the impression that he didn’t quite believe him for some reason. “Ok.” He said eventually.

 

They stood there eyeing each other for a moment. “Anything else?” Max finally asked.

 

Alex just shook his head so Max nodded. “I’ll let him know you asked.”

 

“No,” Alex replied. Max couldn’t help but glare at him a little until he ducked his head. “Just-”

 

Max looked around before stepping in close and lowering his voice. “You broke it off with him, right? He’s not doing great. We’ve all got a lot of shit going on right now and on top of that he’s dealing with the fallout of this.” He waved a hand in Alex’s general direction. “You left him. So leave him alone.”

 

“I broke it off because it was better for both of us if I did. So what? I have to stop caring about him too?” There was a fierce gleam in Alex’s eyes. Max wasn’t sure he’d ever seen it before.

 

“If you still care about him, then why’d you break it off?” Max retorted.

 

“If you love Liz so much why aren’t you with her?” Alex shot back and Max flinched. “Because real life is hard and messed up and just because you care about someone doesn’t mean you can or should be together, right?” Alex answered his own question.

 

Alex took a breath and squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “I’m trying to give him space so he can move on. That’s why I don’t want you to tell him I asked but I was worried, okay? Thanks for letting me know he’s okay.” He turned and headed across the street.

 

“Ten years, Manes!” Max called after him. Alex froze and looked at him over his shoulder. “Ten years of space and it didn’t change a damn thing as far as I can tell. What makes you think space is gonna help him now?”

 

Alex didn’t respond. He just walked away.

 

Max watched him for a moment before he got back in his car. “What was that about?” Cam asked. Max could only shrug. “Old high school crap.” 

 

Cam laughed. “That’s the problem with small towns. You can never escape your past.”

_____

 

Max slumped down in his chair and pulled his hat over his face. Beside him, Michael laughed at him. 

 

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “It wasn’t that bad.”

 

“You literally walked away from a handy with a hot chick to let Liz yell at you. And then stood her up on the make up date.” Michael shoved his knee gently. “That’s pretty bad dude.”

 

“Not my finest moment, I’ll admit.” 

 

Neither one of them said anything for a long while. Finally, still hidden behind his hat, Max said, “It was Liz. Any other girl and I wouldn’t have done it but it was Liz. I don’t know how to tell her no.”

 

Michael made a noncommittal noise. 

 

“Would you be able to walk away from Alex?” Max asked softly. He pushed his hat back enough to be able to see Michael in time to see him freeze and close his eyes. 

 

“You already know I can’t.” Michael told him which, Max supposed was true. To think, there was a time when Max had genuinely thought no one else, especially not his brother, could possibly understand his feelings for Liz. He shook his head at how wrong he’d been. 

 

“What happened between you two?” Max ventured. He’d never really been able to get any details out of Michael as to what exactly went down between them. All he knew was that Michael loved him (and he was pretty sure Alex returned the feeling) and that it hadn’t been smooth sailing for much of the time. 

 

“He freaks out at the idea of people seeing us together. He’d try but then something would spook him and he’d jump at any excuse for us not to be together.” Michael admitted softly.

 

Max furrowed his brow. “Everyone in Roswell knows he’s gay. It’s not like he’s in the closet. Why would he-?”

 

He stopped when Michael held up his left hand and showed it to him without looking his way. 

 

“First time we- anyway, his dad caught us soon after. He went after Alex but I pushed him off of him. Next thing I know he’s slamming a hammer into my hand again and again and Alex is screaming at him to stop.” Max felt sick to his stomach. He’d never asked what really happened to Michael’s hand. The truth of it got all rolled up into that horrible night and he’d tried not to think about it. Michael took a sip of his beer and shrugged. “Experience like that leaves a lasting impression.”

 

Max stared at him before looking into the fire. “If you wanted to go after his dad...I’d find a way to make sure you didn’t go down for it.”

 

Michael chuckled darkly. “Thanks but no. I’m done with covering up bodies for us. Done with the death and the secrets. And honestly? The best kind of revenge would be to see Alex happy and not constantly scared of being out and open with someone.”

 

Max eyed him, surprised. But then he thought about it. While it was true that Michael got in more fights these days than he or Isobel did, he never intentionally harmed anyone. And considering he had probably the most offensive powers and the loosest control when he was angry, that was saying something. Looking back, Michael was always the mediator. He tried to stop fights rather than start them. In fact, of the three of them, he was the innocent one. He was the one who hadn’t taken a life. Max downed half his beer at the thought. 

 

It was minutes later when he spoke again, the two content to share the silence. “I hope you two can get that some day. Being out and happy and not afraid of his dad.” 

 

Michael slouched back in his chair and eyed him. “Thanks but I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. And honestly I don’t need it to. I just need Alex to be happy. That’s all.”

 

A slight shuffle over the gravel to Max’s left snapped both of them to attention. Max could feel Michael’s body tense beside him before inexplicably relaxing. A moment later, he understood why.

 

Alex took another step and was suddenly illuminated by the firelight. Max heard Michael sigh and flop back into his chair but Max didn’t let himself relax. Instead, he stood up and quickly closed the distance. 

 

“What are you doing here?” He asked Alex quietly.

 

Alex tore his eyes away from Michael to glance at him briefly. “Ten years of space didn’t work.” He parroted Max’s words back at him. “Thought maybe we should try something different this time around.”

 

Max didn’t reply, only stepped aside and watched as Alex joined Michael by the fire, taking up Max’s abandoned seat. He watched them for a moment, watched Michael’s face as it warred between confusion and hope and hurt and happiness and love as he watched Alex. 

 

He stood there a moment longer before realizing that he shouldn’t be here for this. Michael didn’t seem to be upset or opposed to Alex’s presence so he headed for his car, thankful he’d had his keys in his pocket when he stood up. 

 

With a last look at the couple sitting by the fire, he headed home.


End file.
